


together we can live (whenever you're ready)

by bellsrke



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Confessions, Conversations, F/M, Facial Shaving, Love Confessions, Post 613, Shaving, not really cus they dont say the L word but it's a bellarke version, the first part is shaving and the rest is them being emotional, they talk through a lot of stuff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-09
Updated: 2020-04-09
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:54:30
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,637
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23562640
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bellsrke/pseuds/bellsrke
Summary: “Want some help?” she blurted out before realising what exactly her words entailed, so she just played it off as cooly as possible. In reality, she was burning up inside, suddenly grateful that her blood type stopped her from blushing.Bellamy paused for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as if to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue. “Would you mind?”-- Clarke helps Bellamy shave, and it brings back a lot of feelings.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin
Comments: 6
Kudos: 125





	together we can live (whenever you're ready)

Clarke was approaching her bed when she heard a noise come from the room next door. Ever since she had been body snatched, she had become even more aware of her surroundings, hardly being able to sleep at night out of the fear of something happening to her again. It certainly didn’t help that her daughter was a threat to herself and the rest of her people, or that she had just watched her mother’s body be hurtled into space by her own hand, so even the slightest sounds were keeping her up at night whilst her mind was stuck in a constant loop of worry and grief. Then she heard a louder noise, a man's voice, vaguely distinguishable but she couldn’t be entirely sure of who it was. 

She grabbed the closest thing to her, a hardback book, and crept outside her room to examine the source of the noise, slowly nudging the door open with her fingertips, aware that one wrong move would cause the release of unwanted sound and make her presence known. When she saw who it was, however, her whole body relaxed and she let out a deep sigh of relief, the familiar black hair always setting her at ease. She unconsciously loosened her grip on the book in her hand, causing it to drop on the floor with a thud.

“Ah! Shit,” she heard Bellamy say as she bent down to pick the book up off the floor, looking up to see him lightly touching his chin. He turned around to face her, and whilst his expression was cold at first, he instantly softened when he saw who it was.

“Hey,” she said quietly, a little embarrassed by her chaotic entrance. “Sorry about that, I heard noises and my mind went to dangerous places so— I came to see what was going on.” She shuffled over to him quietly, hugging her arms to her chest in an act of nervousness, clutching the book tightly. As she got closer, she realised he was shaving as she observed the foam gathered round his face and neck. 

“And you thought a book was the best way to defend yourself?” he asked jokingly, gesturing to the book she was clutching onto, raising his eyebrows slightly at her. 

Clarke let out a small laugh, ducking her head and letting her hair cover her face. “It was the best I could find,” she stated, before looking up to face him again. She saw a tiny red spot on his chin, most likely from cutting himself with the razor. “Was that my fault?” she asked, pointing to it.

Bellamy raised his hand to his chin, lightly running his finger along the small cut. “Yes and no. I haven’t shaved for a while and I don’t quite remember my old technique, but you dropping your ‘weapon’ didn’t exactly help either,” he retorted, but from the tone of his voice there was no malice there, just light teasing.

“Want some help?” she blurted out before realising what exactly her words entailed, so she just played it off as cooly as possible. In reality, she was burning up inside, suddenly grateful that her blood type stopped her from blushing. 

Bellamy paused for a moment, opening and closing his mouth as if to say something, the words on the tip of his tongue. “Would you mind?” he came out with eventually, catching Clarke by surprise.

She tried not to visibly react to his response, but it wasn’t exactly what she expected. She had never had this kind of intimacy with him— almost domestic, but not quite. “Okay,” she said, not being able to stop the small smile that crept across her features. 

She picked up the razor from its place by the sink, placing her right hand gently on his shaven cheek as she took the razor in her left, gliding it down his face in a straight, tentative line. 

“This okay?” she asked, not making eye contact with him as she continued shaving his facial hair off slowly, making sure to rinse the razor after every movement, keeping a constant direction within her wrist for a cleaner look.

“Uh— yeah, this is fine,” he responded, and if Clarke wasn’t so alert then maybe she wouldn’t have noticed that his voice was distinctively lower than usual, and it made her stomach flip unwillingly.

She carried on removing strips of facial hair, gently moving his face with her right hand as her left hand did the work. Her heart beat was erratic, breathing getting heavier as she refused her eyes to break and look up into his, afraid of what might happen if she did, so her gaze remained glued to the remnants of his facial hair while she stripped it back little by little. 

The hardest part was his neck, as she manoeuvred her right hand so that she was tipping his head slightly up, her pale hand so small, insignificant against his large, dark build. He wasn’t a huge amount taller than her, but their size difference had always felt big; whenever he was there she felt small, but not necessarily in the way that implies dominance, just in the way that she always feels safe whenever he was there, felt protected in his presence. Her thumb rested on a soft part of his neck where she could feel his pulse point, almost slightly put at ease to find out that it was just as fast as hers. The rest of her fingers moved to the back of his neck, unintentionally threading through his soft hair, the feeling unlocking all kinds of memories for her, memories that she had chosen to lock away. She could tell that by the way Bellamy’s chest was moving, he was struggling as much as she was, although she couldn’t decide what to pinpoint it as, because the truth was that Bellamy _didn’t_ feel the same about her, and she could see that he was happy with Echo. That’s all she wanted, for him to be happy, but all she ever brought was grief. If friendship was the only way to keep Bellamy in her life, then she was more than happy to sacrifice her feelings, push them aside, because at the end of the day, she couldn’t bear to be without him at all.

Her thoughts carried her away slightly as she continued to graze his skin lightly with the razor, not realising she was close to finishing. She wet the towel that hung below the sink and cleaned his face of the remnants of shaving foam, trailing it across his face with ease and dropping the towel in the sink when she was done.

Her right hand was still placed on his neck, but he had moved his head so that his eyes were in line with hers and she had a feeling of vulnerability wash over her as their eyes met in an intense gaze.

“How is it?” he asked as she grazed his cheek with her thumb softly, feeling the patch of smooth skin that she had created. His voice was as breathy as hers, his pupils dilated so much that the ring of warm brown was hardly visible.

“Looks like my old Bellamy,” she said softly, not registering the depth of the words before they spilled out of her mouth, a slight horror dawning on her at the implications of what she had said. His shaven look had clearly made all her verbal inhibitions fly out the window as her mind started whirring old memories of theirs. _Her old Bellamy._

“Your old Bellamy, huh?” he said, smiling at her, a deep, genuine smile that made the corners of his eyes crease, a look that always calmed her, made her feel warm all the way down to her core. Still, her own words had made her nervous.

“I didn’t mean it like—“ she started to say, pulling her hand away from his face, but Bellamy was quick to react, catching her wrist in his hands. She looked down at where he held her, his fingers so easily clasping her small wrist, realising once more how easy it would be for him to dominate her quickly.

There was a small pause where she refused to make eye contact, the air thick with something unspoken, years apart and yet so close together, before— “Clarke…”

She snapped her head back up to look at him, hearing the tone of his voice, looking into his friendly eyes that were threatening to spill tears. It triggered her own tears, as she darted her eyes away from his, refusing to let them win out, his tears always breaking the most vulnerable parts of her soul open as she couldn’t bear to see him in pain. It was a different kind of hurt, to see those you love hurting too.

“Clarke, I—“ Bellamy choked out, his voice breaking, and still Clarke refused to meet his eye.

She shook her head. “Bellamy…” she said quietly, afraid of the words to come next, years of unsaid things hanging loosely around them.

“You have to hear this, please,” he said softly, pleading with her to just look at him and listen.

She turned her head to face him, seeing a lonely tear escape his eye. She swallowed thickly, bracing herself for whatever was to come.

“Six years ago, you told me that the only way we could survive was if I used my head, so I did. I tried to channel you for six years, thinking you were dead because I couldn’t let your words, your sacrifice go to waste,” he said, pausing to take a breath. “And we did— survive, I mean, because of you. God, I thought about you everyday up on the ring. I thought about everything we had been through, I was so angry at myself that I survived and you didn’t because I didn’t know how to survive without you, not even just that, I would’ve given anything if it meant that you could’ve survived, even if I didn’t,” his voice was trembling, the words spilling out and painting a picture in Clarke’s mind, but she couldn’t speak, it was all too much at once.

“The others, they were sad too, but leaving you behind… it hit me the worst. For the first year I cried every night before going to sleep, thinking about everything, leaving you behind to die whilst I was still alive, it didn’t even feel worth it. It took the others a long time to convince me that I _could_ live without you, and that you would’ve wanted me to. But I always think about how different it would’ve been if you hadn’t told me to use my head,” he trailed off, looking to the side as he fought back the tears, his memories on the ring that came with the devastation of losing the most significant person in his life, aside from his sister, but even then, no one understood Bellamy the way Clarke did, no one had a bigger impact on him.

“Different how?” she asked in a small voice, almost struggling to breathe as a weight set down on her chest, the feeling that she might crumble under his presence as familiar as it had always been.

He looked at her then, and the feeling of his eyes meeting hers could be felt in the pits of her soul, lighting up the darkest parts, making them heal and grow like no one else had the ability to do.

“I would’ve waited for you, on the ground. I wouldn’t have left you behind. I would’ve gotten out of the spaceship,” he said all in one breath, but slowly enough so that Clarke could hear every word, raw and real, spoken straight from his heart

Taken aback, she could hardly choke out a response. “You would have died,” she managed to say, as helpless tears streamed down her face. 

Bellamy shook his head. “Didn’t matter to me. Life wasn’t worth living if I didn’t have you in it,” he said, twisting round her wrist so that her hand fit in his, small and insignificant, and they fit so perfectly together.

“And now?” she questioned, her mind running in all different directions. _What were they now? Who is she to him?_

“Now even more so,” he replied, quietly, but in a sure tone, a steady voice that told her the words rung true, that his life wasn’t worth living without her in it.

Clarke stood there for a moment, her eyes finding where their hands touched, her skin burning in raging fire. There was still so much unsaid, six years apart, greeting each other as different people, but each day she was learning about him again, finding new ways to love him even as he was committed to someone else. The strings of her heart tugged viciously, begging her to be selfish _just this once,_ just to ask him how he truly feels.

He spoke first though, filling the silence they had created. “You called me on the radio everyday for six years and then you left me to die in the fighting pits,” he said, and the guilt washed over Clarke once more.

He had forgiven her for that, but out of all the terrible decisions she had made in her life, that was the one that made her feel the worst, that pulled at her gut, kept her up at night, because she had already lost Lexa and lived with the guilt of it for six years. Another tear rolled down her cheek as the image of Bellamy fighting to his death appeared at the forefront of her mind, trying to hold herself back from breaking into a sob at the mere sight of him dying, the idea of losing another person she loves.

Bellamy spoke again, bringing Clarke back into focus. “I’m not angry at you anymore, Clarke. When Madi told me about the radio calls… it would’ve changed everything. It _did_ change everything,” he went on, his voice more steady now as his thumb caressed her hand gently. “If I heard your calls, if I knew you were alive…” he started to trail off then, swallowing before looking down at their hands. “I would’ve waited for you,” he finally said, bringing his eyes up to meet hers, a look of longing etched on his face.

Clarke took a sharp breath in at his words, her heart beating out of control now as adrenaline pumped through her system. _He would’ve waited for her? The way she hoped he meant?_ “Waited for me?” she asked in a small, hopeful voice.

“In all the ways,” he breathed out. “I waited so long to finally just— live at peace, but you were the one I wanted to do it with, the one I couldn’t be without.”

“But you’re happy now” Clarke said matter-of-factly, not speaking the words _with Echo,_ but he knew what she meant.

“I… I want to be. I want her to be the person who makes me the happiest because she’s been there for me, and I want to make it work, but…” he said, the words getting lost on his tongue as he shook his head. “But I could only give her part of my heart, because the rest already belonged to someone else.”

She knew what he was saying, but she had to be sure. “Who?” she questioned, her breathing still uneven.

“You,” he stated, simple and clean as if it was the easiest thing to say in the world. 

She inhaled sharply at that, thoughts whirring in her mind of how this could play out.

“I told her up in space that nothing would change on the ground, but the truth is that everything changed, because you were still here, still alive after all this time. After six years of me trying to get over your death, I come down to your adoptive daughter telling me that you’re alive. How could my life stay the same after that?” he confessed, laying his feelings out before him to her.

“Everyone close to me has died, Bellamy. I can’t lose you too,” she stumbled on the words as tears began to threaten once more, the energy around them still thick with anticipation of what was to come.

“I can’t lose you either, Clarke. Not again,” he said with complete raw emotion, making Clarke remember his words the night he brought her back to life, suddenly realising that he didn’t know she heard him.

“I heard you, you know, in the mind space,” she said, a small smile on her face as she remembered that he was the one who convinced her to fight, to _live._

Confusion took over his features then as the words spilled out of her mouth. “What?” he asked, his voice slightly raised, maybe from surprise.

“I heard everything you said, when you gave me CPR. It wasn’t the CPR that saved me, Bell. It was the words you spoke to me.” Her voice was calm, stable, unlike before. She was more in control.

“You— you heard me?” he responded, a bewildered tone dominating his words as she saw different emotions dance across his face, first confusion, then realisation.

“Josephine told me that you had given up on trying to save me, and that— it broke my resolve. I gave up because I thought you didn’t fight for me, I thought you didn’t care and that was all I wanted, for you to care, even though I felt like I didn’t deserve it from you after everything I’ve done. And then… I heard you, fighting for me, telling me not to give up, that you couldn’t lose me again even after your sister tried to tell you I was gone. You gave me the strength to pull through, Bellamy,” she said, her words thought out and clear, finally laid bare to him in this moment of intimacy between them. “And I know you were doing it, saving me, for the rest of our people, but—“

She couldn’t finish before he interrupted her. “It was never just for our people, Clarke. You have to know that it stopped being that as soon as I found out you were alive from the morse code. The only thing I could fathom in my mind was that I couldn’t let you die _again,_ and I tried to use my head, but-“ he cut himself off, the words threatening to spill from his tongue, but something was stopping him.

“But what?” she questioned, pleading with him to carry on.

“But I let my heart win out. I left the rest of my people, my sister, my _girlfriend,_ to save you. I want so badly to be committed to her, but you’re the one who keeps me centred, you’re the one my heart leads me back to through all the wars and battles, the wounds and scars, all the times we’ve hurt each other. It’s you, Clarke. It will always be you, and trying to kid myself into believing that my heart belongs to anyone else is absurd.” The words tumbled out of his mouth with such ease and sincerity, years of pent up feelings finally being laid bare, stripped down to their core. 

“I’m scared, Bellamy. I don’t want to hurt you, and that’s all I’m capable of doing. You’re better off with someone else,” she said, her voice small and nervous once again.

“Maybe that’s true, but I can’t live in a world where I could have you, in all the ways, and choose not to. It’s a beautiful kind of pain. No one has ever made me feel the way you do,” he tried to comfort her with the words, persuade her not to be so self-sacrificing for once.

“How do I make you feel?”

“When I’m with you, I’m at peace, I’m at my happiest. Home isn’t a place for me, it’s a person. My home is wherever you are.” His voice broke slightly, taking her other hand in his and lacing their fingers together.

“What about Echo?” she asked, still doubting the possibility of finally being at peace with her family.

“She has her own shit to sort out, she told me she wanted to take a break the other day anyway, but I’ll still talk to her. I don’t want this to be a secret.”

“And what is ‘this’?” Clarke asked, her voice hopeful now.

“You and me, figuring everything out. Once all this is over and we finally have time to do what we always wanted to do. To just— _live._ ” A smile made its way onto his face as his hands squeezed hers. “I am your Bellamy, I was all those years ago and I will be until we’re old and crusty.”

Clarke let out a small laugh then. “Do you think we’ll find peace? Do you think we deserve it?” she asked, guilt already seeping back into her bones.

“Maybe it’s not about what we deserve, rather, what we lead ourselves towards. Don’t we deserve to finally live? After all these years of battles and wars?”

“I guess everything that happened had to be for a reason, so that we could end up here at last…” she said lowly, before adding, “And my home will always be wherever you are, because I am yours.” She unclasped their hands as she placed one on his heart, feeling it beat in time with hers before settling her head on his chest, the sound of his heartbeat a constant reminder that he was there with her, in all the ways.

He wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly and rocking her slightly, making her feel an ease that only Bellamy’s embraces could. “Whenever you’re ready.”

**Author's Note:**

> i cried at least 3 times whilst writing this, mostly at the thought of bellamy knowing clarke was alive on the ring and waiting for her. i'd love for them to have a conversation like this but i doubt jason will give it to us. hope everyone is staying safe at this difficult time <3


End file.
